


Milk

by DayDreams (Pink_Saber), Pink_Saber



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Obi-Wan Kenobi, Come Eating, Come Inflation, Come Marking, Face-Fucking, He's gonna need therapy now, Human Disaster Anakin Skywalker, Humiliation, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Multiple Partners, Submissive Obi-Wan Kenobi, kinda feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:47:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23429455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_Saber/pseuds/DayDreams, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_Saber/pseuds/Pink_Saber
Summary: Obi-Wan has been lactating since he was fifteen, but he never told anybody but the healers. After a long mission, Obi-Wan hadn't been able to pump for a whole week and he is desperate for release.ORThe 212th now loves the taste of his milk.
Relationships: 212th Attack Battalion & Obi-Wan Kenobi, 212th Attack Battalion/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Boil/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Boil/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Waxer, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Waxer
Comments: 49
Kudos: 517





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hello there and welcome to my sick fantasy. I hope you enjoy!

Obi-Wan groaned as the pressure in his chest become more painful. He was so full of milk that his undershirt was soaked, even his outer robe was damp to the touch.

It was his shameful secret that not even his former padawan knew. He lactated. His breasts have filled with milk every day since he was fifteen- sore and sensitive until he used a pump in the bathroom. He would wait until his padawan went to bed or class, then he would milk himself like a bantha.

It had been a week since he had pumped last, and his breasts are going to _explode._ His men were giving him strange looks as he shifted from foot to foot. He tried to focus on what the admiral was saying but the sheer pressure was becoming too much.

“Admiral Kefor,” he interrupted, trying hard to keep the raw desperation out of his voice, “I’m going to take my leave. Please feel free to forward me any paperwork you require m to complete.”

He didn’t wait, or rather he _couldn’t_ wait, for a reply from the Chiss admiral. He strode out the room, pointedly ignoring the baffled command and the curious faces of the clones. All he could focus on was the wet dripping down his chest and the need boiling under his skin. 

With all of his desperation, Obi-Wan had no clue where he was going. He followed the force’s insistent prodding and flung himself through the closest door.

He panted as he unwrapped himself from layers of tunics and tabards. The rough material rubbed against his hypersensitive nipples, sending jolts of white-hot pleasure and pain rippling down to his toes. The pump he used was back in his personal quarters, so he reached up and tweaked a nipple with his fingers instead.

His legs folded from under him, a keening cry escaping from the back of his throat. A glistening pearl of milk dribbled from his pert nub, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t get the milk to flow. He was nearly sobbing, painfully hard in his pants and so very full in his chest. Absently, he rutted against the floor, desperate for some form of relief.

The door opened with a ‘whoosh’. With his desperation he must have forgotten to engage the locking mechanism, leaving him wide open to whoever walked in.

“General Kenobi, sir?”

It was Cody, his commander. He opened his eyes blearily, not even sure when he had shut them. 

“Commander, please excuse my uncivilised behaviour-“ it was at that moment, an unusually strong wave of _need_ washed over him, cutting him off with a strangled cry. He felt so ashamed to be this needy and flushed in front of him, but his was too weak to resist.

“Sir.”

Cody’s voice was darker, lower… hungry. Heavy boot fall marked Cody’s descent to his vulnerable, half-naked body, still laying prone on the floor. The commander examined him with a critical eye.

“You’re lactating, sir.” He stated it as a fact. It was useless to deny it, but it was almost… thrilling to have a person who wasn’t a healer know about his predicament.

“Yes.”

“You’re hard. Aching. Desperate.” Cody came closer. Helpless to stop himself he rutted against the floor, whining as the cool metal grating soothed his aching tits.

“Cody, Please!” What he was begging for he didn’t know. But, oh how he _needed_. And Cody, his loyal, faithful and steady commander, would give it to him. He could always count on Cody.

Big and calloused hands drew him up to his feet, but his legs would hold him, and he fell right into Cody’s muscular arms. Shamefully, he rutted against the armoured legs.

Cody stroked his quivering back. Then, viciously, he twisted a nipple. Obi-Wan cried out, “Please, Cody please!”

“Please, what?”

Obi-Wan squirmed in his grasp, breathing heavily. Cody’s musky and masculine scent overwhelmed him. He couldn’t think. All he could produce were broken mewls as Cody traced hands down his body, getting maddeningly close to his need before ghosting out of reach.

Cody whispered in his ear as his hands reached down into his pants and started to play with his hole, his fingers moistened with his own milk.

“Do you want me to relieve you of your milk? Suck you dry and milk you like a cow? I bet you’d like that, sir. Always desperate to get used. You can be my personal wet nurse and I’ll hold you against a wall as I drink my fill. You can be the 212ths personal whore. You like looking after your troops, don’t you? You love the idea of clone after clone sucking on your tits: you helpless and needy. Would you like that, sir?”

Obi-Wan shuddered and whimpered, Cody’s filthy words going straight to his groin.

“Yes!” He cried, “Make me yours. Please, use me!”

He felt Cody smirk into his neck before they were pulled down onto a bed. 

He was set down onto Cody’s knee, now only realizing where he was. He was in the crew’s quarters, and anyone from the 212thcould walk in on them at any moment. That thought only made him harder as he ground down onto the armoured knee. He was nearly sobbing with need.

“It’s alright, General, we’ll make it all better,” Cody soothed, stroking his outer thigh. Another set of hands set themselves on his waist, and another settling around his neck, just tight enough to squeeze his airway. Hands seemed to cover his entire body, and he could guess who they belonged to.

One hand gripped his swollen breast and squeezed. Excited murmurs broke out around him as milk squirted from his nipple all the way to Cody’s chest. It was humiliating. Thrilling.

“Look at him,” one of the clones said hungrily, “So full of milk and desperate to get milked.”

“So needy. For us.”

A warm mouth nipped at his neck. A hand stroking his inner thigh. It wasn’t enough.

“Please!” He tried to reach out and grab his breasts himself, but his arms were pulled behind his back, hands closed around his wrists. He was on full display; his leaking chest and cock hard for all the clones to see.

“I dunno, General. You’ve been so naughty, not telling us about this. Think of all the times you could have fed your hungry troops, sustaining us when we were hungry. You deprived us of your milk. Wasting it. I don’t know if we should relieve you, just yet.”

A finger flicked his sensitive nubs. Just hard enough for it to hurt, but not strong enough for any milk to come out.

It was Waxer. Obi-Wan cried out, “Please, I’ll be good! Yours to use, to nurse and fuck whenever you want. Just release me!”

He thrust his chest out, trying to convey how willing he was from his troops to get their warm mouths all over his nipples and suck. He was so full! He might explode from the pressure, and there were warm mouths right there...

A hand petted his hair. It soothed him for a moment before sharply tugging on a few strands. Obi-Wan was forced to make contact with Cody’s dark and hungry eyes.

“You’ll be a good boy for us? Bend over whenever we want you and take off your shirt, so we can use you?” Obi-Wan shuddered, tilting his head to submissively expose his neck. Cody smiled, his gaze pleased and hungry.

“Good boy.”

At once the hands were moving all over him. Stroking his inner thighs, electricity dancing over his whole body and curling his toes. There were mouths on his neck. Biting and sucking and pulling breathy gasps so loud he almost worried that someone would hear. Of course, he didn’t care at that moment. Mace Windu could walk right in, but he would still be begging to be sucked.

Calloused fingers gently traced over his puffy nipples. He arched into the touch. It felt almost painful with how swollen he was with milk, but it was a good pain. And finally, _finally,_ Cody leant down and took a nipple into his warm mouth.

Obi-Wan wailed, thrashing in his lap and throwing his head back as utter _pleasure_ surged through him. It was nothing like he had ever felt before.

The pleasure impossibly increased as Cody began to suck. His commander nursed on his breast, sucking greedily with moans of satisfaction.

“Kriff, General,” he licked and lapped at the areolar, “You taste so _good_. Sweet and creamy, so delicious and fertile. Best milk in the galaxy.” He sucked for another few seconds before another clone attacked his left nipple with enthusiasm.

“Ah, force-!” he cried out, unable to anything but writhe as he was nursed on both sides. His clones gently massaged his breasts as they sucked and nipped the nipple, not a drop escaping from their greedy mouths. Eventually, they stopped their nursing and pushed him flat against the bunk.

A clone on either side of him spread his legs wide, another slipping off his pants. Obi-Wan whimpered. Why did they stop? He was still so full!

As if sensing his distress, Cody shushed him. “It’s alright, sir, you’ll go back to being our wet-nurse soon. We need to stretch you out first, so we make sure we don’t hurt you. Is that okay?”

“Please- need you now!”

The clone chuckled, “Eager, isn’t he?”, as a slicked finger circled his fluttering hole.

“We can’t risk hurting you, sir. You’ll have to wait.” Obi-Wan nearly sobbed, the pleasure and pain was overwhelming. The hands and mouths were still exploring his body, but this time a tongue licked his hole. It circled the ring of muscle before pushing inside, warm and wet and deliciously strong. He was eaten out for a few agonising movements before the mouth left, and cool air was blown over his moistened hole, making him quiver.

“Please!” he begged, his hips pressing down onto the finger now up his ass, “Fuck me!”

He was methodically worked open. One finger, then two, three and finally four. He was wide open, ready for them to take and use him. A finger brushed his prostate, and if it wasn’t for the hand holding the base of his dick tightly, he would have came right then and there.

“He’s a bit loud, commander.”

He couldn’t help it. The hands, the mouths and the fingers… he sounded like a porn star.

His flank was tenderly stroked by his commander, “Better shut him up then. Slick, you know what to do.”

Strong and naked thighs straddled his face, and Slick was staring down at him with a wry grin. Before he knew what was happening, Slick sunk down into his open mouth and began fucking his mouth. He choked and gagged, drool leaking from his mouth, the back of his throat being knocked by his enormous dick.

He loved it.

“So eager, sucking my dick like he was starving!” Sick moaned and pushed right down into his throat.

Slick bounced off his face and went so deep he could hardly breathe, and orgasmed right into his mouth. He was barely able to swallow it all before another clone took his place.

His breasts were being sucked again, every thirty seconds or so new clones being swapped in. A hand was pumping his dick while another was holding the base, and his commander slowly sunk down into his hole.

“Kriff, you’re tight!” Cody cursed. His insides squeezed his commanders tight, desperate to take more. The clones were very well endowed, he felt so full with him in only in half way. At last, when Cody was fully seated, he set off in a brutal pace.

His body was on fire with pleasure. His mouth, nipples, dick, hole… everywhere that there where hands and mouths on him from dozens of willing clones. Cody came within him, a spurt of hot cum going deep within him, and another Clone took his place.

Splatters of moisture hit his stomach and face as clone came all over him, marking him as theirs.

He didn’t know how long it went on for, every orifice of his body getting used and owned. He was so covered in cum that it was dripping onto the bed. His hole was getting sore and sensitive, and his stomach swelled with seed. He had orgasmed more times then he could count, his entire body buzzing with pleasure. 

Eventually, the last drop of milk ran dry, and his chest was blessedly empty. He had no energy so he had no choice but to lay there as the last clone finished in his hole, and another came in his mouth. His stomach felt full from, by his estimations, the seed of fifty clones he had swallowed down, and his insides felt swollen and distended with come.

“You look so beautiful like this, full of our come and marked like a common whore.”

Absently, he felt a washcloth gently rinse the come off his body and beard. A few clones gently patted his flank. Their touch didn’t feel sexual, rather tender and loving. 

As exhausted as he was, he had never felt so bathed in love and peace as he was now. Surrounded by his clones, used and marked up. He would be covered in marks for days.

“You did so well today, sir. You fed your troops like a good boy. You provided for us, and satisfied our needs,” his commander cooed, “Such a good boy.”

He leaned into the touches, feeling strangely proud and accomplished. A blanket was thrown over the top of him.

“You’re going to let us drink from you, and you’re never going to throw your milk down the drain again. Understood?”

Obi-Wan nodded sleepily, only half understanding what they were saying. He felt like he could lay down and not get up for a week. He heard a few chuckles, and his hair was gently brushed out of his face.

“Sleep well, general. We’ll see you in the morning for breakfast.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here is another one! It's a bit different and has an element that not everyone will be into, but I hope you guys enjoy it.

Obi-Wan woke up to the wonderful (absolutely awful) sensation of a wet shirt and a throbbing pain in his chest. Usually he would grab his pump, drain all the milk and pour it down the fresher sink. His pump was currently at the bottom of a trash pile, courtesy of Trips, so that he could never ‘waste’ it again.

He groaned, lightly massaging his breast to try alleviate the pain. He was producing more milk then he ever had in his life. By morning his breasts were swollen and completely full, a feat that would usually take him days. And the rough material of his robes _hurt_ if he wasn’t milked, so he had taken to sleeping in a smooth cotton shirt that felt incredibly soft. He would fight anybody that tried to touch it, and _no_ , he’s decidedly not attached to a shirt. That would be ridiculous. 

His door opened, revealing Waxer and Boil. It wasn’t uncommon for a trooper or two (or ten) to come to his quarters for a drink in the morning.

“Morning General,” Waxer smiled, acting as if he didn’t come to suck off his superior’s chest, “How are you this morning?”

“Quite sore, I’m afraid. I require your… assistance if I’m to perform my duties.” He blushed as their gaze narrowed onto his chest. He still not used to the attention; he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be used to so many people wanting _him_ at the same time.

Waxer and Boil smoothly walked towards him with coy smirks, one going to either side of the bed. His heart skipped a beat as hands caressed his legs and arms. Their golden skin glided over his own pale complexion and he groaned when a stray finger flicked his nipple.

They smiled at each other knowingly, loving how their general was dependant on them and nobody else.

“It’s all right, sir, we’ll get you fit for duty in no time,” Waxer’s gentle smile morphed into something hungrier and more predatory, his eyes dark and locked on his chest. Waxer licked his lips.

“Take off your shirt.”

It wasn’t a request. Obi-Wan did it without question, revealing his swollen, dripping chest, and saving his favourite shirt from a sticky end. 

Boil smirked, running his hands across his right breast. “You were flat last night; I watched my brothers drain you for half an hour. Now look at you,” he marvelled, cupping him in his palm, “Bigger than some women I’ve been with.”

Waxer made a low sound in the back of his throat, “Kriff, imagine him in one of those lacy bras. His tits are big enough for them.”

Their eyes darked considerably, and Obi-Wan felt heat build-up in the pit of his belly at the thought. He had never considered cross dressing before, but the idea of being all dressed up and on display for his men… it was insanely hot.

“We could make him wear one to the Jedi council. No one would know what’s under his robes but _us_ , and he would stand there in front of them and pretend that he isn’t the 212ths personal slut.”

“Or,” Boil continued, “We could get him a nice silk lingerie set. Nice and smooth, gliding across your nipples and cock like water. Imagine us touching you through the silk- how nice and _sensual_ it would feel.”

He moaned at the thought: silk would feel so nice on his sensitive nipples, and how it would glide over his cock... he threw back his head in desire. His swollen breasts bounced and wobbled from the movement, eliciting a gasp from the Jedi. They were tender, so much so that even small movements felt overwhelming.

They chucked, “Sounds like we have some shopping to do.”

Large hands pushed him against the wall behind his bed. Their hot breaths tingled his neck and warmed ear. Boil nibbled on the lobe and slowly bit his way down to his jawline.

Waxer massaged and gently teased his left breast, “Mmm, you’re so full, I bet that it’s maddening.”

The Jedi whimpered, desperate and sore. “Yes.”

The clone tweaked his nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure down his spine. He leaned into his touch, but Waxer had yet to begin suckling like he hoped.

“We could leave right now. Leave you aching and painfully full, having to walk around The Negotiator with your breasts bouncing through your robes until you find someone to push you into the wall and suck you dry.” Boil prodded him, the firm touch painful enough to make him writhe and gasp, “Or, you could tell us what you want.”

“You know what I want,” he gasped, “Milk me.”

“Why should we do that? It doesn’t sound like you want it. Or that your _desperate_ for us.”

They wanted him to surrender himself to them, wholly and completely. He could feel their possessive desire and hunger through the force. But submitting, letting the clones do whatever they want to him, was so different to begging. It felt more like a betrayal to the code, and the Jedi part of him hesitated.

The clones looked at each other and shrugged, “I guess we’ll go then, if you’re not interested.”

They detached from his side, taking their warmth with them as they marched towards the door. He didn’t think that they were serious until they _didn’t stop walking_ , and they were already at the door.

Horror built up in his throat. He didn’t want them to leave. He _was_ full and aching, and desperate to get milked. But even if there was a Twi’Lek model and the most handsome man in the Galaxy right in front of him, he would still want his men. _Only_ his men could satisfy him. Only they could make him feel so desperate, used and desired, like he would go mad without them.

He threw the code into the proverbial wind, and for the first time in his life, he yielded to his cravings to be dominated and used. 

“Wait!” he cried out, “Don’t leave me!”

They paused, but they didn’t turn around. Obi-Wan swallowed, he was going to have to beg better than that.

He kneeled on his bed; neck tilted in a display of submission.

“As a Jedi, I have never let myself act on my desires. I have buried my longings so deep I forgot that they were there. But you- the entire 212th\- make me crave to be under you. I want you to push me down and hold me there. I want you to milk me, to fuck me, to _use me_ until I cry. It can’t be anybody else. I want _you_ , because having you humiliate me, _love me_ , makes me feel more alive than any war or peace negotiation ever could.”

“Thank you, sir.” They were back to sitting by his side, and they gently cradled his face in their hands. “We are _honoured_ that you feel this way about us. We love using you, making you cry so prettily and holding you down until you cum, and we love _you_. You are _our_ General, and we will treasure you, _worship you_ , as you are special to us.”

He didn’t realise he was crying until a tear landed on his nose. Nobody had ever told him they loved him before, especially not like this. He didn’t deserve to be their world; he didn’t feel worthy of their love.

A thumb wiped away his tears, “Hey now, none of that, sir. We love you, and we will say it every day until you believe it. But for now…”

They shoved him back against the wall, pushing him and forcing him to be still with their bulk. Waxer petted his hair and Boil stroked him from his thigh to his bellybutton.

“Let’s sort out that little problem of yours.”

Obi-Wan was nearly shaking in anticipation. Their strangely tender conversation was doing laps in his mind, but the soreness in his breasts and his aching need made him eager to be sucked.

Every thought emptied form his mind when they finally latched.

Wet heat enveloped both of his nipples. They suckled almost lazily, their heads resting against the fullness of his breasts, but the overwhelming _relief_ made him see stars. It was like having an aching need fulfilled, like an itch scratched that was impossible to reach.

Obi-Wan cried out when Waxer circled his tender nub with his tongue. Its slick pressure electrified him. Lightning flooding his blood as Boil did something with his teeth- and _oh, that was new-_

He shuddered in pleasure and panted helplessly. Having them both suck on his sensitive breasts was almost too much. He could feel the milk getting sucked out, feel it gushing into their greedy mouths and dribbling down his stomach.

Waxer moaned around his nipple as he suckled. Heat burned low in Obi-Wan’s belly. It was intoxicating to know that his milk was inside his men, that they were hungry for _him_.

Being suckled was almost cathartic. Knowing that he was feeding and nourishing his troops, that they could _devour him_ , soothed and lulled a deep and dark part of his soul _._

They suckled like they were starving, now. They drank from him with an urgent hunger, holding him immobile and pushing their faces into his breast. He felt their teeth, their tongue, and bucked in their hold, but they were unrelenting. They sucked directly onto the slit of his nipples, and his whole body jerked and spasmed with pleasure. 

Boil unlatched first, giving his nipple a wet lap to catch any drips. “So good,” he moaned, “The creamiest and sweetest milk I have ever had.”

Only moments later did Waxer stop drinking.

“You’re still so full.” Waxer cupped his breast in his hand and squeezed. Obi-Wan squirmed, the pressure in his breasts was still there. Days ago, he would have been empty.

He was well and truly the 212ths personal wet nurse. He could not go an hour without needing one of them to suckle, even for a minute, and his production was only increasing. He felt like he had nursed a clone in every room in the ship, at this point.

Now that he was no longer consumed by the electrifying pleasure of getting suckled, the urgent pressure in his bladder made itself known. it was a wonder he didn’t feel it before.

He cleared his throat.

“Thank you. That was very pleasurable, but I rather need to use the refresher. Urgently.”

The clones eyed his stomach with interest, and a funny feeling fluttered in his stomach.

He moved to get up, climbing over Waxer’s lap with fluidity and grace despite his bouncing breasts, “Really, it’s quite an immediate need-“

Waxer drew him into his arms so quickly that he had no time to blink. His back was to Waxer’s defined chest, and his arms stretched across Obi-Wan like a harness, effectively immobilising him.

He swallowed.

“… What are you doing?”

Obi-Wan eyed Boil’s wolfish grin with uncertainty. They were planning something; he could feel their excitement through the force.

“You said you liked to be humiliated.”

He nodded warily, but he was beginning to feel like he should have kept that quiet. Boil smirked, tracing his inner thighs with slow touches.

“Why get up, sir, when you can go right here?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened as he realised what exactly they had in mind. He squirmed and wriggled in Waxer’s grasp, but his strong arms imprisoned him like durasteel. Boil crawled hungrily across the bed towards him, a dark glint in his honey coloured eyes. He placed two hands flat on his stomach.

He struggled harder, but he may as well be wrestling beskar. They were far stronger than him, and he would never use the force against his men. They well and truly had him pinned. “No, the fresher is just fine, thank you.”

Boil smiled at him like he said something funny and ignored his resistance. He straddled his thighs, his bulk bearing down on him with a familiar weight. Hardness was prodding him at his leg and from behind him, and the more he wiggled the harder they got.

“You’ll like it. You like being held down. You’ll be unable to do anything but lay there as you piss yourself.”

He sunk his calloused thumbs into his bare navel. He pressed on his bladder, deep and strong. His bladder fluttered with the pressure, the area around it tingling. Shamefully, he became aroused.

His whole abdomen tensed as he struggled to hold himself in. The pressure sunk down into his groin, activating the sensitive nerves. Boil moved his thumbs in slow, heavy circles and steadily increased the pressure until it felt like he was going to burst.

He bucked in Waxer’s hold as it started to become unbearable, groans and gasps uncontrollably escaping his lips.

“Please,” he whimpers, “I- I can’t…” He was _that_ close to wetting himself like a child.

“That’s it,” Boil cooed, now pressing a closed fist directly onto his bladder. Obi-Wan shuddered, broken gasps escaping from his reddened lips. “Just let go, Obi-Wan. Let us take care of you.”

The pressure impossibly increased. He could feel it building, the heat and desperation, and he had the humiliating realisation that he was _going to piss himself_.

“I’m gonna- I can’t _hold it_! I… ah!” he cried out as Boil pushed directly on his bladder and massaged harder than he had before.

He wet himself. Wetness and heat flooded his shorts, rushing down onto his legs and dripping onto Waxer. Boil was still pushing down on him, forcing him to keep peeing.

It was utterly humiliating,

Finally, he was empty. He couldn’t meet their eyes.

Boil grabbed his jaw and tilted his head upwards, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Don’t lie to yourself, sir, you enjoyed it.”

He shook his head, “N-no, it was so uncivilised.” He was still sitting there, saturated and dripping with his own urine. Both of his men were coated in it.

… But, he did enjoy it. He had been held down, _forced_ and used for their own pleasure.

“Really?” Boil slipped his hands under his shorts and grasped Obi-Wan’s throbbing erection, “Because from where I’m sitting, you got off on it.”

He whimpered, trying to rut into Boil’s hand, but Waxer’s arms firmly pushed him down into his own lap.

“I- I loved it,” he admitted, blushing furiously, “You used me.”

Boil shifted, now straddling only one of his legs, and rubbed his erection all over him. Waxer pushed Obi-Wan between his legs, where a hardness prodded his behind.

“Well, we’re not done using you yet.”

He didn’t come out of his room for half an hour, and he was wrung out before the day had even started.

He made his way to the main room, his breasts already becoming sore and bouncing as he walked from the sheer amount of milk he was producing.

Cody slammed him against the Negotiators console and fucked him, dozens of clones stopping work to watch as their commander suckled their general until he was begging for more. Needless to say, he was empty by the time they were done with him.

BONUS SCENE

Anakin was a force of nature, sweeping through the Negotiator like a storm. Obi-Wan could only try to keep up as his former padawan gave him yet another headache.

“-latest campaign made me so tired. You got any snacks ‘round here?” Without even asking he dove into their fridge. The fridge where they kept some of his milk. His _breast milk_.

“Anakin- I _really_ wouldn’t-“

“You’ve got a weird amount of milk in here,” his padawan cut him off, completely ignoring him, “I was hoping for some of those weird custards things you like, but this’ll do.”

He pulled a bottle of milk out, and to Obi-Wan’s horror and mortification- took a swig.

His padawan’s face brightened and he looked at the bottle- _his breast milk, oh force_ \- in interest.

“Man, this is good. Where did you get it from?”

He was full on chugging the milk now, and Obi-Wan wanted to _die._ He should have hidden that fridge in the darkest corner of the ship, but knowing Anakin, he would have found it anyway.

“… Ryloth,” he said faintly, “But do not drink anymore or you _will r_ egret it.”

He drank another bottle. Cody struggled to keep a straight face from the sidelines, and some of the clones where outright snickering.

Somebody shoot his padawan, _please_.

“Master, where did you go?”

Anakin perked up even more.

_No. No. This can’t be happening._

“Yo! Ahsoka, you have to try this! It’s so good- what the kriff!”

He tackled him to the floor and yanked the bottles out of his arms.

“What? Master, give them back! I was going to give those to Ahsoka!”

_Give them to Ahsoka_ \- he panicked. It was one (horrifying) thing that _Anakin_ drank his milk, but he would _not_ let his grand padawan!

“Anakin, that’s my breast milk,” he blurted out, and immediately wanted to jump out the airlock.

His padawan blinked. Then turned green.

“What the fu-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup. The ending was a bit rushed, but I think i did okay *explosions destroy my life*. 
> 
> Poor Anakin, though, he must be so traumatized.
> 
> And I REALLY get it if you don't like the second part. This fic is a feeling dump, and while I understand that watersports aren't for everybody (i had no idea I like this until I stumbled across this other fic like 2 days ago, I stared out the window for a good hour and debated what the actual duck my life has become...), but this fic is for me. You know, keep real-life sane and pour out horrible fantasies into fiction. 
> 
> But chapter 3 (if it happens) would be more like chapter 1. I've gotten a few requests, so if you want some input you better comment ;) 
> 
> Stay safe. This whole COVID-19 thing makes uni SUCK, so I hope you're doing better than me. Instead of doing one of the four assignments I have, I wrote smut. So. Smart.

**Author's Note:**

> Pleasure comment. Let me know I'm not the only horrible person that enjoyed this.


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